Through the Eyes of Sal Santorelli
by loudinsilence
Summary: Sarah "Sally" Santorelli, twin sister of Tommy, embarks on her adventures with the sandlot gang in that summer of 1976. Don't know if there will be any pairings yet, but you're welcome to pitch in some ideas! Review, follow, favorite!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: I own none of the characters besides my own OC, Sally.**

It was a sunny summer morning in the Valley. There was a light breeze, but it was perfect for a day like this. I loved these types of days, because it's something in the middle; not too hot, not too cold. We had finally moved in to the new neighborhood, and we'd adjusted to the weather and now the new house. Of course, not everything was unpacked and clean.

I'm Sarah Santorelli, or Sally for short, and I preferred to stay inside. I was booksmart, and I loved to solve puzzles. I've always aspired to become a detective! In other words, I'm exactly the opposite of my _twin_, yes,_ twin_, Tommy. He's always been the one to play outside and compete in every single sport. Actually, not every sport, just baseball. He loved the game. It's practically his life, whereas I know absolutely nothing about it.

But anyways, it was shaping out to be a good summer day. A new book, a new haircut, and time to myself-."

"Sal! Can you go check on your brother? He went out and he's been gone all morning." My mother asked.

"Sure thing, Mom." I groaned. I couldn't say no to her. I've always been goody-two-shoes Sal. I walked outside and hopped on my bike. I put my book in the basket attached to the front, and peddled away.

The Valley is homey. It's always so lively and interesting. I've never noticed it before, but maybe it's because I never go outside unless I want or need to; which isn't much.

Wait. Where would Tommy be anyway? I had to stop on the sidewalk and ask someone for directions to a place where kids play baseball. That's when someone with thick black glasses probably in his late 20s, told me about the sandlot. I followed his directions, but all I could think was: of course. A sandlot would be the perfect place for Tommy. He would play there every day if he could, I bet.

Eventually I reached the sandlot, and parked my bike. I grabbed my book and walked onto the baseball diamond. About seven boys were crowding around something, each of them trying to figure out what to do with "it".

"How far did he skid?" One boy asked.

"Four, five…" Another counted, walking from "it" to a bike laying on the ground.

"He looks bad." Another one added. "We should do something."

"Yeah, kick him!" Another boy laughed. "See if he's faking it!"

"Kick him? What are you, nuts?" That same boy asked.

"Yeah, nuts. Good idea. A kick in the family jewels, excellent fake breaker. That should wake him up."

"Bad idea on many levels! As a medical procedure, I think kicking is way down on the list of many prescribed remedies."

"Got a bad idea, Q?"

Then they argue about who is the captain and how they think they should wake "it" up. I can't listen to them squabble anymore.

"Hey, uh, guys! Have you seen Tommy?" I ask.

They all turn to face me, each one smirking. "Looking for your boyfriend, sweetheart?" One of them asks.

I roll my eyes. "Actually, he's my brother."

"Is this him?"

I walk over to them, and peer inside their circle. It's Tommy.

"What happened to him?" I shout, crouching to next to him. "What did you guys do?"

"It wasn't us!"

"Yeah, we just found him here. Probably fell off his bike or somethin'."

I sigh. Of course, Tommy. What an idiot.

"Look, guys, he's waking up!" Said the shortest one.

"We could still kick him before it's too late…" Adds the big one.

"Ask him a question everyone knows!" Another says.

Slowly, Tommy opens his eyes.

"Who is the greatest baseball players of all time?"

"I am."

"What?" They ask. I even joined in too. He's only been playing the sport for what, like 4 years, and he thinks he's the greatest.

"And who are you?"

"Tommy Santorelli." He says matter-of-factly.

"Well I don't care if you're Steve Garvey. The answers Babe Ruth." The blonde one says. And might I say, I hate his attitude.

"The Sultan of Swat!"

"Hello the King of Crash!"

"The Colossus of Clout!"

"The Home Run King!"

"The Babe!"

"The great Bambino !" They all yelled.

"Who is that?" I mutter to myself. I'm glad no one heard it.

"No, it's Santa!"

"What?" We asked.

"Like Santa Claus?" One asked.

Right after, Tommy had passed out. Again.

"Perfect… how am I going to explain this to Mom?"

"Back up kids, clear out!" An officer yelled, running towards us. He stopped, gasping for breath, but he tried to look cool. "I'm trained for situations like this. Now who started it?"

They all pointed at him. "Gee, thanks guys." I rolled my eyes. Typical immature boys.

He crouched down, and pushed me to the side. "Let a professional deal with this."

He looked up at me, then the others. "Stand back boys… and little lady. I'm goin' in." He started to lean in, and that's when it struck me: he was going to give him mouth to mouth. We looked away in disgust.

But Tommy opened his eyes just in time, and squirmed away. "Hey, what's going on here?"

"Alright kids, give him some air." The officer yelled. "What happened?"

"He took a fly ball to the forehead. Sorry Uncle Chops." The big one said.

"It would have been a triple too if he hadn't screwed it up." A boy said. A bunch of 'Shut ups' soon followed.

"You guys should have been more careful." I add. "Now he's having trouble with his memory, thanks to you!"

"Hey, hey, hey! Are we going to have a situation here?"

"No…" I answered.

"Cause' we don't want a situation do we, huh?"

Everyone mumbled. "No."

"Good. What's your name, kid?"

"That kid is Tommy Santorelli." I answer.

"Who you calling kid?" He looked at the officer, then at me. "Sal?"

"Is that any way to talk to an officer of the law?" The officer questioned.

"Where's my PDA?"

"What?"

"My blackberry?" He asked angrily.

The officer looked around, then grabbed the big one's snow cone. "Hey, that's mine!" He said defensively. "And it's not blackberry, it's strawberry banana!"

"Ooh, I love strawberry banana." He then takes a bite. The big one was obviously PO'd, but I found it rather funny.

"I think they're the new kids that moved down on Glen View Road." One kid adds.

I grin. "Yeah, that's us."

"What are you talking about? I live in Beverly Hills, and Sal here probably lives who knows where! I haven't seen her in years! And what's with this kid crap! Which one of you took my phone? I need to call my agent. And don't even think about autographs!"

"Why would we want your autograph?" Several kids complained. That's it. My brother is officially insane.

Tommy looks away for a second, then back to us. "1976…" He picked up the officer's shades and looked at his reflection. "What's goin' on?" He says, before he faints yet again.

"Yep, we got a situation here." The officer says.

"No kidding." I wonder what's wrong with him?


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own any of the characters except for Sally.**

The next morning I waited in the kitchen for Mom. She would know what's going on with him. I played with my fork and empty plate. Yesterday was so strange. First off, Tommy acted as if he hadn't seen me in years, which he even said that he did! He also managed to confuse not only my mother and I, but a group of boys and some weird police officer. Speaking of them, who did they think they are? They are some of the rudest boys I've ever met. Who thinks it is right to, I know it's a cliché, but kick someone when they're down?

Mom suddenly walks back into the kitchen, making me jump. "Didn't mean to scare you, Sal."

"I know, I know." I pick up my plate and fork and put them in the sink. "Can you braid my hair today?" My hair was long and thick. I never could "tame" my hair. Plus, Mom always knew the right way to style it. She said it made my dirty blonde hair look pretty, and it did. She was always right.

She nods. "Sure thing, dear." She walks over to my seat. "Sit here."

I sit down in my seat ready for her to do so. She parts my hair into three sections and begins to weave them into a braid.

"How's Tommy?" I ask.

"He thinks it's all a dream." She sighs. "I'm starting to get worried."

I chuckle. "How do you think I feel?" Suddenly, we hear a shriek from upstairs. Mom stops braiding for a second. "What was that?"

"Hopefully your brother is okay…" She says, now braiding my hair again.

Shortly, Tommy walked down the stairs in his Speed Racer pajamas. I chuckled. He used to be obsessed with that kind of stuff.

"Well hello there, sleepy head." I greeted him with a smile.

He looked around the kitchen, appearing very confused. "Wh-Where am I?"

"You're home sweetheart." Mom says, now finished with my braid. She walks over to Tommy and gives him a kiss on the cheek, and surprisingly, he accepts it.

"No, no, no. Something's very wrong." He says. "…Mom, am I dead?"

I immediately look at Mom, and she returns the same confused look. Then we both look back at him.

"Why would you ask such a preposterous thing?" I ask. Might I say, I was proud I used a word like 'preposterous'. It made me feel a lot smarter.

"I'm wearing my speed racer pjs that I haven't seen in 30 years…"

"Alright, fine. I got a little backed up on the laundry. There's still a lot of unpacking to do."

"Don't worry. Your Batman and Robin ones haven't run off." I say with a sickly sweet tone. My, I was good at pushing his buttons.

"Sal, do you know how old I am?" He says like I'm dumbfounded.

"Twleve. Almost thirteen." I respond. "We're twins, remember?"

"No. I'm 41 years old. I live in Beverly Hills. I got a smokin' hot girlfriend who's got her own reality show!" He claims.

I squint. "…Earth to Tommy?"

"I play centerfield for the Dodgers." He continues. "And somehow, I'm back here. And Mom's here, and you're here, Sal, and the pancakes smell so real," He pauses and looks at the ground, then back to us. "And I think I'm gonna' throw up!"

"Alright, alright. Take it easy. I thought you liked pancakes." Mom said. Great, now he's making her feel bad. Smooth move, Tombo. "I'll make you some eggs."

"No eggs. I drink protein shakes."

I stand up. "Maybe he has a concussion. I read about it somewhere that symptoms include amnesia and personality changes."

"Oh dear lord." Mom says, face palming. "I let you sleep too long. I'm going to call the doctor right now." She says, hurrying to the phone.

"Mom, put down the phone." He smiles. "I don't think I have a concussion. I just think I'm dead!"

Mom dials anyway, and I sigh. What's gotten into him?

* * *

Later on we went to the doctor. Currently, the doctor was waving a lollipop in front of Tommy's face, expecting him to suddenly "feel better". Doctors are useless…

"I bet this will bring you back to life." The doctor chuckled.

"Give me a break." I said, rolling my eyes.

Tommy looks at me, obviously confused. "Has everyone gone nuts?"

"Appears so." I mutter to myself.

"Okay now, Tommy, why don't you tell me what's wrong?" The doctor asks.

"Come on Doc, isn't it your job to tell me what's wrong?" Tommy asks. Okay, so this Doctor got on my nerves too, but I would never have said that to his face! Talk about being rude.

"Alright then. How's your memory?"

"Well… I remember some things they were real. Like my mom, and Sally, and the house, and the kids from the sandlot. But other things… they're kinda foggy. Like I'm watching TiVo."

"TiVo? You mean TV? The television?" He looks at Mom. She shrugs. What the hell is TiVo?

"No, TiVo. Pausing real time, zapping commercials… unless I'm in them." He says with a smirk. I roll my eyes. Dork.

"You know what? Why don't you and your sister go wait outside while I talk to your mom, okay?" The doctor smiles.

"I'd actually prefer to stay, Doc. See, my trainers back at Dodger's stadium, they give me the skinny all the time."

Mom sighs. "This is what I mean, Doctor. Half the time I don't know what he's talking about." I nod in agreement.

"Other than a bump on the noggin' he's fine! Absolutely fine."

"You think I'm fine?" Tommy questions. Look at this haircut. Look at these weak biceps! How can you call any of this fine?" He turns to face me and Mom. "Let's go, this guy's a quack." He jumps off the chair, and walks to the door.

"Tommy!" Mom yells. He turns around. "You apologize this instant!"

"Actually, Tommy. I'd like you to wait outside with your sister while I talk to your mother." He said. "In private."

Tommy rolled his eyes. "Whatever…"

I sighed and stood up. "Thank you, Doctor." I followed him outside his room.

We wait there, occasionally looking through the blinds on his window. "I can't believe you."

He looked at me. "What?"

"You know what. Sure, I don't like this doctor either but that's no way to talk in public."

"Easy for you to say…"

I pause. "Excuse me?"

"You've always been a goody-two-shoes, I'm pretty sure you still are in 2007!"

"…2007?" I ask. "You're so bizarre. How are we related?"

"Beats me." He says in reply, but then his expression changes. "It's been forever since I've seen you."

"You see me every day."

"No. We don't talk! You don't send me letters, call, or even text me."

"Text?" I ask. Now I'm confused. Thankfully, Mom stepped out just in time.

"I'm thirsty! I need a drink." Tommy states.

"…Let's just get some soda." Mom says.

* * *

Back at home, Mom and I went over some pictures with Tommy. They were of him, me, and mostly are other family members. He had quite a few things to say about each of them…

"Who's this again?" He asks, before the doorbell rings. Mom gets up to answer the door.

"Tommy, Sal, some boys are here to see you."

We both walk over to the door, confused. The shorter boy speaks first. "Hi I'm DP, this is Wings-" But Tommy cuts him off.

"Timber and Two-Ton. Yeah, I remember you guys. It's all coming back to me… like it was yesterday."

"It _was_ yesterday." I smirk. He shoots me an _I-don't-need-your-sarcasm_ face. "Humor is the best medicine." Man, I was on a roll today.

"Anyway, we just wanted to see how you're feelin'." DP says.

"And the girl." Two-Ton adds.

"The girl's name is Sarah Santorelli, Sally or Sal for short." Tommy states. I smile at him. At least he cares.

"Lucky it wasn't your… eyeball!" Wings says. He pretends to take his eyeball out, which I find childish. I mean what are we? Six? According to Tommy, he's in his forties! Anyways, he lucky he's cute, because then every girl would think he's weird.

"Well I'm he's fine now." Both Tommy and I smile.

"Yeah, so, thanks for stopping by kids." He tries to shut the door, but Two-Ton sticks his foot out, blocking him.

"What's with this constant kid crap? I'm really _glad_ you're not playing on our team." Two-Ton says.

"What team?" Tommy and I say in unison. This happens all the time. It's a twin thing.

"Our team! We play on the sandlot…"

"Yeah sandlot…" Timber adds.

"It needs another player." Wings adds.

"But only because the best ballplayer in the history of the sandlot is back. Puttin' on a clinic." Two-Ton looks at the other boys, who nod in agreement.

"Who said anything about _me_ putting on a clinic?" Which came from none other than Tommy Santorelli.

"You?" DP and I say at the same time. Now that was weird. "Jinx!" We say in unison again.

"We're talking about Benny." Says Two-Ton.

"The Jet." Says Timber.

"Rodriguez." Says Wings.

Tommy chuckles. "That bum?" I hit him in the arm. "Ouch." He holds his arm, glaring at me.

"Bum? He's got the best batting average on the Dodgers this year." Says DP.

"Wait… he's here too?"

"Benny's amazing man."

"The best!"

"Please, Benny only got as far as he did because he can run. When his knee tanked him, he retired and became a coach." Tommy stated. How much does he know about baseball, anyway?

"What's he talking about?" Two-Ton asked the guys, then looks at me. I shrug.

"Just go with them honey, the fresh air will do you some good." Mom said from the living room. "You too, Sal."

"But mom!" We complained, once again, in unison.

"No buts, get out. I'm serious."

Tommy sighed. "Let me get my mitt…" He took one step forward, then stopped. "I'll get you one too or something, Sal."

He left me then, with the boys. Fantastic.

"You guys are such twins…" Wings stated.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"You guys are both stubborn." Two-Ton says. And it sounds like he doesn't mind saying it.

"I beg your pardon! You shouldn't tell someone that to their face!"

"It's true!" He says in retaliation.

That's when Tommy came back just in time. We all went on our bikes, and rode to the sandlot. You had to go through town of course, and it was nice to see all the people shopping. Except I kept getting distracted by Wings, who kept trying to race me there.

Wings peddled next to me. "Come on, one race, darling."

"Call me that again and I'll get Tommy to beat you up."

"He can't remember anything. You think he'll remember you?" That's it. I've had it.

I start gaining speed, now in front of him. "I'll see you at the finish line, Chicken Wing." Now I'm being immature… but it was necessary. Eventually Wings passed me, well, everyone passed me, but I was glad I had people to talk to… even if they were the most annoying people in the Valley.

* * *

**Author's note: This was a lot of writing… hopefully you guys liked it! See that button down there? Press it! I love reviews.**


	3. Chapter 3

**I do not own any of the characters except Sally.**

As soon as we reached the sandlot, Wings, DP, Timber, and Two-Ton raced to the center of the field. They crowded around some guy dressed in a baseball uniform. Dodger, I think. I stood next to Tommy, looking around the field. The diamond was completed with old mats for bases and faded white lines from base to base. Signs hung everywhere, even some from a decade ago. I looked at Tommy, who looked like he was experiencing déjà vu.

"Are you okay?" I ask, sounding concerned.

"Yeah, fine…" He said. We walked a little bit, looking around some more. Then he walked right up to the pro. "Hey Benny, it's pretty weird, right? I mean it's like the twilight zone or somethin'." He put a hand on his shoulder. "Maybe you can tell me how we got-" The man turned around and smiled. Tommy's mouth dropped. "here." He finishes.

"You asking me how I got here?" The one called 'Benny' asks. "Same way these kids are gonna get there. 'Cause they love to play ball. That's the key, kid." He says, swinging the bat around.

Tommy circles around Benny. "You look so… so…"

"Young?" I add. I was just trying to save him before he said something stupid. Fortunately, Tommy nodded his head in agreement.

"Maybe I should be lookin' in the same mirror you are, kids."

"I wouldn't really recommend that." Tommy says.

"Come on hot shot. Let's see what you got." DP says, hitting Tommy lightly with his glove.

"You know what? I think I'm just going to watch."

"Okay… how about you little lady?" Benny asks me.

"I don't know how to play." I say. I receive odd looks from the rest of the boys, making me feel like I'm some odd alien. "I'll just… watch my brother." I follow him to the stands. I overhear some of the boys' conversation.

"Some all-star." Wings says. "And how does someone not know anything about baseball?"

"All star? As in, 'All-star LATER'. Just full of it." Timber says. "And as for the girl-"

"I think you mean, Sarah Santorelli, sister of Santa. Call her Sally or Sal." Two-Ton says, imitating Tommy's voice. The boys all laughed. I rolled my eyes. Stupid boys. "I tell ya, try to do some weirdos a favor and they just get weirdower!"

I glance at Tommy wondering if he heard that too, but I couldn't help but also look at the man next to him. He wore a backwards cap and a pair of thick black glasses…

It's that guy! He gave me directions to the sandlot!

The man looks up, and smiles at us. "Hey. I remember you."

I laugh. "Yeah! Thanks for the directions!"

"Are you guys new to town?"

"Not really-" Tommy begins to say, but I cut him off.

"Yes we are."

"I'm Squints Palledorous." He says, shaking both of our hands.

"You're a baseball commissioner, right?" Tommy asks.

"Yeah, that's right." We all turn our heads to watch them practice.

Benny hits the ball, and Wings races to catch it. And man, can that boy run.

"Wings!" Tommy says.

"You know Wings McKay?" Squints asks.

"Sure."

"You can never forget that kind of speed." Tommy and I say in unison.

"He's got no second gear, that's for sure." Squints says, laughing at how we said the same thing at the same time.

"It's gonna catch up to him though." Tommy adds.

"Oh, I don't think anyone can catch him."

Tommy turns to me, whispering. "Except the cops." I smirk. The cops, huh? What is he, an evil genius? I watched as Wings threw the ball back to Timber, then he turns and makes a face at me. I roll my eyes. Not likely.

Then Benny hits another, and lands towards another boy on the team.

"Come on, Q." Two-Ton addresses him. "Just pick up the ball, Q."

"In a minute!" He shouts back. I like Q already.

"That's Q, short for IQ. He's wicked smart. Not really that great an outfielder though." Squints says.

"I'm using the probability calculation of wind speed velocity, versus the angle of the descent of the ball." Q says. Two-Ton looked clueless, but I knew exactly what that was. Hey, it helps to read.

"Well I'm going to descent upon your head if you don't pick up that ball and throw it in."

"Take it all a part, and breaks everything down to a science." I add.

"That's right." He looks at Tommy. "You got yourself your own Q at home."

"You could say that." Tommy says. I smile.

"Did you ever notice how the wind speed velocity changes when you speak Two-Ton?" Q asks.

"Pick up the ball, NOW." Two-Ton says. Both of their attention switches to the thing in Q's hand. That must calculate it, because it changes as soon as he said something, just like Q said.

"It's paid off, he's only one of the biggest grain surgeons-" Squints and I look at him, confused. "I mean, brains, in the world." Nice save, Tommy. Way to not be weird.

"You okay, kid. You might want to get out of the sun."

"It's not the sun. It's just _him_." I smirk, which results in a glare from Tommy.

"I just can't believe what I'm seeing…" Tommy says, scratching the back of his head.

"Well that's not good. Here," Squints takes out a business card with 'Squints Pharmacy' on the front. "you give this card to your mom and come in; I'll set you up with some quality shades. Both of you, if you want. Speaking of the shade… come on kids, follow me." He leads us to the dugout, but I stop.

"I want to play now." I turn around, and walk up to Benny. "Will you… help me?"

He smirks. "Another Smalls." He mutters to himself. "Sure thing. What's your name?"

"Sal." I say, grinning.

"Hey guys! We're gonna teach Sal how to play, okay?" I hear several groans from the boys, but I try to be optimistic. I can do this.

He lines me up at the base and hands me a bat. "Just watch me, okay?" He demonstrates how to stand and swing. I'm actually excited to learn this!

"Alright, give it a go." He says. "Timber, now."

Timber winds up, but his arm turns to spaghetti. He whips the ball in the direction of my face, but I dodge it at the last moment.

"Sorry." He says, scratching the back of his head.

"It's alright, just keep going. Throw 'em a little lower." Benny says.

"Wait, wait, wait. We don't want Timber to kill her." DP says. "Just have us show her together. WITHOUT Timber pitching." Timber sighs, then we all gather in the center of the field.

"Here, like this." Wings says, wrapping his arms around me. I'm a little embarrassed, because _he_ of all people is touching me. "And swing like this." He grasps my hands around the bat, imitating a swinging motion. "Just like that."

"Well, you can get off her now." Q says.

Wings does as he's told, and makes a sound… like he's throwing up. The guys laugh.

"Don't touch me ever again." I say, looking at the ground.

"Like I'd want to!" Wings shouts, now all the guys are laughing except Benny.

"Okay, okay, something productive now?" He asks.

DP shows me how to catch and three of the guys, Ryan, Wok and Roll show me how to throw. So far, I'd say I had a successful lesson.

"Okay guys, bring it in!" Benny says. We all do as we're told. "Okay, now, do any of you guys…" He nods at me. "or girl, have the guts to hit off a major leaguer?" A bunch of 'no's follow.

"Right here, partner, right here!" Tommy shouts. They all turn to face him, but I hide my face in my shirt sleeve, embarrassed. We move to the dugout, and watch as Tommy lines up at the base, bat in hand.

I guess I should try to be supportive…

"Tommy, get a touchdown!" I yell, thinking I sound smart. The guys stare at me.

"We need to teach you some baseball…" Wok says, and then turns to Roll. "Slang." They both say.

"Terminology?"

They look confused, but Q nods. "Exactly."

"What's your name, kid?" Benny asks.

"Tommy Santorelli." He says with pride. "And I promise you this; you're not going to forget it, Benny." 'Ooh's soon followed.

"Who does this kid think he is, Hank Aaron?" Two-Ton says. I can't help but laugh, even though I have no idea what he's talking about.

"I like your confidence, kid." Benny says. "Let's see what you got. Now I'm just going to go nice and easy on you at first, okay?"

"You know, Benny, that's always been your problem. You're too nice." He replies.

"Excuse me?"

"You're excused." Again, we stood there with our mouths open. "Now bring it."

"Okay." Benny says, grinning. He pitches a ball, and Tommy hits it perfectly. At least, I think. What's it called when it goes over the fence? Oh yeah, a homerun.

"And Santa takes it to the North Pole." Tommy says.

Benny continues to pitch ball after ball, but Tommy keeps hitting them out of the sandlot.

"I think his swing might be better than Hank Aaron's…" I say. The boys nod in agreement. Good, I said something right. Tommy walks towards us, but stops.

"Hey, your name's Ryan, right?" He asks. Ryan nods.

"Hey, what do ya' say?"

Ryan's smile fades, and then walks away. I look at the other boy's expressions; it's not good.

"Where did you learn to hit like that, kid?" Benny asked, now walking towards us.

"Staring down the lights of Randy Johnson, Roger Clemmons, you learn fast, or you die trying."

"Who are those guys?" I ask.

"Must be," Wok and Roll say. "7th graders."

"Hey, with them on our team, we can enter the all city championship!" DP says.

"Enter? You guys could win it!" Exclaims Squints.

"Very high probability." Q says.

"You guys forgot something: I don't play baseball." I add.

"You can sit the bench and cheer or something…" Two-Ton says, rolling his eyes. Ryan pats my shoulder for reassurance.

"…Fine. But I'm not just a cheerleader. I'm a professional spectator." The boys roll their eyes.

"Guys, who said anything about _me_ playing on your team?" Tommy asked. "I'm not going to be here that long. Look at it this way, I showed you how it's done, that's my little gift to you guys. Hey, they don't call me the Santa for nothing."

"…I can't believe you-" I sneeze. I must be coming down with something…

The boys throw their mitts at the ground. "Stupid Santa." Wings says.

We all went out to the field again, leaving Tommy, Benny, and Squints behind.

* * *

Later on, Mr. Needman came by with his son. They were measuring the dimensions of the sandlot. And to make matters worse, I now have a headache and can't stop sneezing.

"Squints, how's it going there, buddy?" He asks.

"Oh, like you really care?" He replies.

"Just bein' polite."

His son looks up at both Tommy and I, giving us a death glare.

"EJ, all the way to the fence now!"

"What're you doing here, Needman?" Squints asks.

"Taking some measurements."

"Measurements? For what?"

"Well didn't you hear? The city's puttin' the sandlot up for sale."

"You can't sell the sandlot!"

"Oh yeah they can." He smirks. "And I'm buyin' it."

"Excuse me?" Squints asks, shocked like the rest of us.

"Face it, Squints. The whole field has run it's course. Besides there's no real talent over her nowadays." Needman says, nodding at us. How could he?

"Well you didn't see what I just saw."

Well I know where I can fetch a nice price tag and some newly developed condos right were we're standing."

"Well as long as I'm baseball commissioner here…" Said Squints, adjusting his glasses. "I don't see that happening."

"Oh yeah? Well fix your glasses," He says, pushing Squints glasses up. "Because you got the future right here, and you don't even see it." He turns to his son. "Slack that off now, E.J! Take it all the way out to the fence!"

The boys shook our heads, but I couldn't. My head felt like it weighed 10 tons. I did NOT feel good at all.


	4. Chapter 4

I lay in my bed, staring at the wall. I had come down with a fever, 100 degrees. I was shocked; I didn't know how I would be able to catch something like this just in one day! Mom had left with Tommy for _our_ movie night, but she told me that I couldn't tag along because I wasn't feeling well. She didn't want me to pass out during the movie.

Then, something knocked on my window. I groaned, and turned to the side facing the window. Wings pressed his face against the window, making me jump.

"Ow!" I yelled, grabbing my head. I shuffled towards the window, and opened it up. "What?"

"Good evening, gorgeous." He teased.

I looked out the window, and Two-Ton held up Timber, who held up DP, who held up Wings to my window. "Can I help you?" I sneered.

Two-Ton started to yell. "Is Tommy here?"

"No. He's at the movies." I tried to shout back, but my head hurt too much.

"Aw, now we have to go there now…" Timber said exhaustedly.

The others groaned, and so did I. "Can I go back to sleep now?"

"No. We need you." Wings said.

"And what makes you think I'll help you?"

"Because, Doll, we said so."

I roll my eyes. "No thanks. Your logic is faulty."

"We promise we'll leave you alone after you do this one, tiny thing for us."

I raise an eyebrow. "Really?"

They nod, still struggling to hold each other up.

"Fine, but stay out there. I'll meet you at the front door." They did as they were told, and ran to the front of the house.

I raced to Tommy's room and found his wardrobe. I rummaged through his clothes until I found a pair sweatpants and a hoodie. I put them on, and then I raced to the bathroom. I glared at my reflection in the mirror, before nodding. "This will have to do…"

I take my time to get downstairs, and open the door groggily. "Out… of… energy."

The boys looked at me impatiently. "You're so slow, Sally."

"Girls tend to take longer than boys do to get ready. You don't need to prove that with science either." Q stated matter-of-factly.

I smirked. "He's right."

I closed the door and locked it, and then we headed to the theater.

* * *

We watched behind a bush as Tommy and Mom walked into the theater. We then ran behind another bush.

"Great! Now we have to wait 2 hours to talk to him!" Two-Ton exclaimed.

"Why do we need _this_ kid on our team anyway?" Wings said. I nudged him in the shoulder, which he simply returned with an apologetic glance.

"With him we could have a real team!"

"And maybe win the All City Championship!"

"Yeah!"

"Who cares about those little… butt-faces anyway?" I say in reply. Everyone stared at me like I was an alien in response, and I didn't blame them. Did I just say butt-faces?

"I care about beating those butt-faces butts!" Two-Ton said in response.

"I took some calculations today," Q added. "At the risk of sounding like a dweeb, if you don't count the pitch he didn't swing at, Tommy's batting average was a thousand."

"You are L 7 weenies."

They laughed, but I had no clue what they were talking about. We hurried over to one of the windows of the theater. They proceeded to lift Two-Ton up.

I watched as he tried to open the window. "Isn't this kind of dangerous?"

No one answered, because they were all focused on getting Two-Ton through the window.

He managed to open it, and started to slide in. Then, _it _happened. He farts.

I look away in disgust, plugging my nose. I'm not the only one who has that reaction.

"He got me with my mouth open!" DP says. I can't help but laugh, but immediately afterwards they all shush me.

"Oh I knew I shouldn't have had that many cheeseburgers…" Two-Ton said.

He finally makes it in, and then they all turn to me.

"Ladies first." Wok says.

I sigh as they give me a boost up to the window. I slide in easily. Two-Ton and I manage to help all the boys. Now all we need is Wings.

He jumps in, landing on top of me, which makes me push the boys out of the stall. "Ow…" I say, holding my head. Then I look up at Wings, who has his head resting on my chest. I blush for a second, and then push him off.

The stall next to us opens, and we all look up at its past occupant: Officer Chops.

"I should've known." Chops says, closing the door.

"It was only one stall!" Someone exclaimed.

"Yeah." I add.

He looks at me, confused. "And you brought a girl in here?"

"I don't see a girl." Wings says. "Do you see a girl?" He asks me.

I punch him in the arm rather weakly. "Shut up."

"You're not going to rat on us, are you Uncle Pork Chop?" Two-Ton asks.

"We're not here to see the movie." I add. He looks even more confused now. "We just want to see my brother."

He shrugs. "Relax boys… and girl, the big Pork Chop wasn't always a cop. Besides, it's my night off."

We all sigh in relief.

"Just, as long as we don't have a situation here! We're not going to have a situation here, are we?"

We all shake our heads no.

"Are you sure?" Nods are soon followed. "Good. You wait here for my signal."

He distracts the man at the counter as he waves us in one at a time. Well, except for Wings, who just _offered_ help.

I put my hood up so no one would recognize me. We slided in the seats next to Tommy and Mom.

"Hey Tommy, Mrs. Santorelli, how you guys doin'?" DP asks

"What are you guys doing here?" Tommy asks in response.

Two-Ton takes a handful of popcorn, but only to be yelled at by Tommy.

"Tommy, why don't you take your friends outside so you can talk?" Mom says. Oh, I miss her.

"Mom! I'll miss the part where the monster sings and dances! I love this part."

"What do you mean the monster sings and dances?"

"Nothing, I'll just go." He hands the popcorn to Mom. "This is my favorite part." We all get up, and follow him to the back.

"Look fellas, I appreciate you asking me and everything, but the truth is, I have way to much going on in my life right now-"

"Tommy, they wouldn't be here if they didn't need you." I say, taking my hood off. "I mean us."

"…Sal?"

"Hey Tombo." I smile weakly, coughing a bit.

"Truth is, we're not exactly what one would call… "Good"." DP says.

"I'm sorry guys, I can't."

Two-Ton walks up to him, and looks at him coldly. "Tommy, I'm only going to ask you this once, and I want you to be completely honest with me, okay?"

"Mhm?"

"Can you spot me 25 cents for some goobers?"

We all sigh. Then, that same guy from behind the counter walks behind us. "My guess is you guys don't have any tickets. What do you got to say for yourselves?"

We all hide behind Tommy. I say nonchalantly. "We're with him."

Then Tommy exclaims. "Kill the monster!"

"Kill the monster?" Then the man in the movie says the same line, leaving us all shocked.

"Seeya wouldn't wanna be ya!" Wings says, racing about the theater. I follow him, because I have no idea what to do.

The man chases us, calling for Officer Pork Chop, but he doesn't respond. As soon as he's away from the door, we all race out of the theater. Before we leave, I give Tommy a nod. I trust him not to tell Mom.

* * *

As soon as we reach my house, I cheer. "Finally!"

We walk up to my door, and I open it in no time. I turn around, waving goodbye to the boys. They do the same, except for Wings, who stays there as the boys walk away.

"Well, I want to know."

"What is it?"

"Do you kiss on the first date?"

"This wasn't a date." I sigh, but I still smile.

"I thought it was. Two people. Going to the movies. Can't be anymore not first date-ish." Wings says, leaving against the side of the house.

I laugh. "Alright, fine. But you have to close your eyes."

He stands there, shocked. "Really?"

I nod. "Mhm. Now close 'em!"

He does as he's told, but he holds his breath as he does. I start to lean in, watching him start to pucker up. He's so peeking. I then decide to put my hand to his lips, and push him lightly. He stumbles back.

"Maybe next time. I don't think I'm a first date kisser."

"…Until next time." He says, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Come on, Wings!" The boys shout from the driveway.

He mouths "Bye", and then hurries over to his friends. After I watch them leave, I close the door. I sigh in relief. This will be a summer I'll never forget. No more staying inside.


End file.
